


Supernatural (Translation)

by GrimmjowKurosaki19



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Creature Fic, Creature Tim, F/M, Gen, Ghost Tim, M/M, Multiple Pairings, One Shot Collection, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tim centric, and characters, and more pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimmjowKurosaki19/pseuds/GrimmjowKurosaki19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't believe in ghosts but they have been chasing me my whole life." -Edgar Allan Poe.</p><p>A serie of one shots. Tim is a supernatural creature in all of them. Multiple pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernatural (Translation)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittycat1810](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittycat1810/gifts).
  * A translation of [Supernatural](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4134171) by [GrimmjowKurosaki19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimmjowKurosaki19/pseuds/GrimmjowKurosaki19). 



> I feel like I should start with pointing out that English is not my mother language and that this fic could possible have some grammar mistakes.
> 
> This are one-shots focusing on Tim, in this first chapter is Tim as a ghost, so keep in mind that Tim is dead in this chapter. The first chapter is a DamiTim. if you have requests of any creature or couples do not hesitate to ask them. But keep in mind that this fic is Tim centric and the next two chapters are already written and are JayTim and KonTim respectively so that your requests won't appear until the fourth chapter.
> 
> Well hope you enjoy it.

Titus seems louder than usual, truth is, Damian never quite stood Titus’s effusive personality, he’s pretty partial to all kind of animals, but he always preferred a graceful, silent feline to the clumsy and loud Grand Danes.

Titus licks his face and barks, Damian cleans his check with his right hand and tries to make some space between him and the big dog, Titus pushes him and Damian thinks that maybe he can be hungry, but the dog’s constant barks and his rare, nervous attitude tells him the contrary.

Besides, his food tray is full.

“What do you want?” He asks. The only answer he gets is a bark. He should be smarter, talking with animals...  sometimes he thinks that he spends too much time with Grayson, and that Grayson spends too little time with Gordon.

Titus circles himself at least three times and then he starts running, somehow Damian knows he has to follow him.

He runs across what seems to be miles of trees and scrub, of course, he knows the manor is fairly huge and that it gardens are vast and broad, but while running across them, in the middle of the night and under the inclement cold of Gotham’s winter, suddenly, the manor’s gardens makes him think of the Amazonas.

He tries to scream at Titus, to ask him to come back; he goes about as far as asking him to where he’s going.

The whole thing is pretty stupid.

Titus stops by a pair of big rocks surrounded by some too thick trees. The adrenaline that he felt when running after his dog starts to fade and suddenly he’s hyperconscious of the chilly weather, that his shirt is a bit too thin and of the mist around them.

His lungs hurt a little when he breathes and he can see the whiff of air coming from his mouth with every difficult exhale.

In the little moor of the ridiculous, ostentatious garden of the Wayne manor, Drake is there, sitting calmly in one of the rocks.

Thin, white, sweat pants and a dangerously transparent shirt fit loosely around the fragile frame of his body. His skin looks paler than usual and Damian notices that he isn’t wearing any shoes.

“It’s cold” He comments hugging himself, Drake doesn’t moves, he doesn’t even acknowledges his presence, he only stares at a dead point in the thickness of the mist beyond Damian’s shoulder. “As priceless as your death would be for me, Drake. I’d fancy it more being under my sword” Timothy lowers his sight; big, pale, blue eyes come across his own, sharper and darker ones.

“Damian” He whispers, his voice softer than normal, Damian notices, Drake looks younger, too small.

The air feels colder and the mist thicker.

Titus starts barking, in attack position, his fur bristles.

“Damian, you should leave” Says Drake standing, Damian can see a blood stain forming in the center of his chest.

Timothy looks too small, too young and too pale.

The air becomes colder.

“Timothy, we have to go inside” He demands, upset and nervous.

The air becomes colder with every second, the fog around them is even thicker, Titus barks uneasy and Timothy looks even more ethereal.

The blood stain is beginning to leak, crimson stains drawing little circles in the ground, Timothy comes near him and takes his little brother's face between his hands, Damian is too conscious of how Drake has to stand in his tiptoes and tilt his chin to do so “You should leave” He says fondly.

He’s chocking on blood now, Damian has the urge to hold him in his arms and take him to the infirmary inside the manor.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he turns around and starts running.

While running to the manor his mind runs fanatically. His brother is bleeding to death in their garden, under Gotham’s cold and he’s running away without even looking back.

_Then…_

_The picture of Drake, chocking on his own blood with a Batrang in the center of his chest, hits him._

_Drake, crying out for help._

_A funeral, sadness filling the deeps of Grayson’s eyes, the guilt, filling Todd’s, the Clone’s angered ones (Because he was coming back from the death only to find his best friend, murdered)._

_The desperation in Allen, the barely contained anger in Wondergirl._

_The light, slowly leaving Drake’s eyes as he died._

 

He looks back.

Timothy looks young, but then, he realizes.

Timothy doesn’t look young; it is himself that has grown up.

Time has passed.

Titus seems old, maybe a little bit tired, the trees looks unkempt  the little existent flora in the garden are surrounded by fungus and undergrowth, the grass is horribly yellow and the ground seems pretty unfertile. The rocks in where Timothy was sitting on; are stained with blood.

A simple glance to the manor, tells him everything he already feared, the manor looks gloomy, dark and old, if he focuses he can almost hear the manor cracking by the humidity of the moldy wood. Time has passed.

He turns and Timothy banishes, his body, degrading in fast flashes of light and fog.

Timothy is dead.

And today is the anniversary.

Timothy has been dead for a long time. Long enough for Damian to start calling him Timothy

(Too late)

Long enough for Damian to take the Batman’s cowl.

(Too early)

Long enough for him to mature, for him to appreciate Timothy’s true nature. Enough for him to really see Timothy, above his halo of hate and envy.

Enough for Damian to mourn his death properly.

Inside the manor Grayson is fast asleep in Drake’s old room, as he always does when nostalgia strikes him. He can see the clone hovering the manor like a ghost with his girlfriend at his side, uncomfortable and without knowing what to do. Allen vibrates in the sitting room, full of energy and anguish. Gordon is not going to show tonight, keeping an eye on Todd in the asylum, Damian remembers last year when Todd tried to kill himself; full of remorse and guilt. Damian thinks, would it be him who killed Tim Drake of all people, he would do exactly the same.

Alfred moves around the manor, too old and tired to cook or work but trying to do so anyway. Miss Kyle sits in a couch. She’s carelessly going through pages of an old book. A cat is fast asleep on her shoulder; a feat of skill and equilibrium that Damian knows, only cats can get correctly. Damian also knows, that the book on Miss Kyle’s hands, is one of the many photography books that Timothy had done while alive. Timothy was a virtuous photographer.

Brown is in the cave, going through blurry picture in the computer there. Pictures of the past, of her time with Timothy as Spoiler and Robin.

Damian knows she could never get over their break up many years ago, and Timothy’s death never granted her any real closure.

Cain is there by her side, training. Crushing her frustrations against a boxing bag.

Damian believes that between nostalgic brothers, broken friends, suicidal murderers, hermit mentors and heartbroken ex girlfriends. He’s the worst of them.

He’d never truly appreciated Timothy and to be fair they’d never quite got along. They’d never had any sort of relationship. Timothy always seemed too distant, too far. He hated him, for all the attention he got, by Grayson and the titans, by his own grandfather. Even Todd’s psychotic attention.

Today is not like that; today, he understands the obscene amount of attention he always got, today, he understands his grandfather’s unhealthy fascination for –his detective- (Timothy was such a gracious creature after all; his grandfather did always had a fine taste). Today he understands Todd’s obsession with his babybird, Grayson’s need to have his little brother by his side, to have –his fan- around. Timothy’s and Cain’s shared background and empathy (both being formidable warriors, trained under Lady Shiva’s wing). He understands it all.

 Today he understands and respects every side of Timothy that he didn’t appreciate while he could.

(Too late)

Today, all he can do… is hallucinate a ghost.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it and comments are always welcome, all errors are mine and I hope that if you see them you warn me.


End file.
